“Boo hiss, Tony Abbott”, “Shame, shame, Joe Hockey.” The chants at a union protest outside the Liberal party’s Melbourne headquarters on Monday left little doubt over who is being blamed for Holden’s Australian demise.

General Motors, the small crowd was told, had banned workers from attending the rally, but a few snuck out anyway. A succession of union leaders castigated the government for failing to staunch the 3,000 job losses from Holden when the car manufacturer ceases operations in 2017.

About 1,300 of these jobs currently reside in Victoria, with the head office and engineering hub in Port Melbourne and a distribution centre in Dandenong. Job losses are set to escalate far beyond this figure, however, due to the 70 small firms in Victoria that provide parts to the carmaker.

Beyond the political argy-bargy of parliamentary ultimatums and negotiated support packages, each of these job losses carries a story, both individual and also as a wider indication of Australia’s creaking manufacturing base.

Mark Nicholls, a maintenance supervisor, has worked for Holden for 32 years. He says he feels he’s just been shunned by his own family.

“Holden has paid for a lot of our families to be educated, it’s paid for our homes, it has been a family,” he said. “We are shocked to lose such an icon to Australia. It’s been very disappointing the way the government handled it. The way GM handled it wasn’t the best, either.

“I’m lucky enough to have adult children now. We’ve had the discussion. They are more disappointed for me because they know I’ve always been a Holden person and loved working for the company. They realise Holden has paid for their education.

“As someone aged over 50, it’ll be hard to find a job. I haven’t started looking but I suppose I’ll have to make that decision very soon. Maybe mining. Maybe I’ll brew coffee or something. Who knows.”

Nicholls and his ilk have the expectations of a different era, where a job, despite the hard graft, could be relied upon to support a worker and his or her family for multiple generations. That certainty has vanished before his, and others’, eyes.

“I’ve been going to the same place to work, sometimes seven days a week, for the past 32 years,” Nicholls says. “Going over the Westgate bridge, every day. Same place. All of a sudden I’m thinking ‘What am I going to do?’ ”

Sean Connelly, a softly-spoken Irishman, is in the unenviable role of working on new products for a company that won’t have any.

Connelly, who has spent 24 years at Holden, is facing up to being jettisoned by the company long before 2017. At 54 years old, it isn’t a palatable prospect.

“I’m really at the wrong age to be looking for a new career,” he said. “There’s a lot of uncertainty in the workforce. There are guys in their 30s with big mortgages. They are very apprehensive.

“I think everyone thought Holden would be around forever. The reality is we make a very good product. They are closing the doors on the Commodore V8, which was the best car we’ve ever produced. That makes it harder to take.”

Workers shocked about Holden's plans to stop making cars in Australia stage a peaceful protest in Melbourne. Photograph: Chris Hopkins

Connelly says he has “no idea” what he will be doing in 2014, let alone 2017.

“I didn’t expect this level of uncertainty in my life,” he says. “I joke with my wife that she’ll have to keep me, but I don’t think that’s an option. I’ve still got a mortgage to pay off. I have no other option but to work, but it will be enormously hard to find one. Everyone is stunned at the moment, but it won’t properly sink in until they are forced to look for another job.”

The conundrum for the workers, their unions and state and federal governments is pinpointing where these new jobs will materialise. Denis Napthine, Victoria’s premier, has said he wants a “substantial” federal government cash injection to and workers at Holden and components companies.

But it’s not clear exactly what Napthine’s plan is, beyond attempting to prevent Toyota, another major Victorian employer, also departing. The state Labor opposition sees political capital in this low-key response, labelling Napthine “lazy, inept and out of touch”.

Steve Dargavel, Victoria state secretary of the AMWU, dismisses suggestions that the car industry has been on over-subsidised life support for years.

“There are significant opportunities for blue collar jobs here in Victoria, but it will need a significant response from the government, rather than a training package that means workers go to TAFE and become a barista,” he says.

“I don’t accept Australia has invested heavily in the automotive industry, when you compare it to the fuel rebate the mining industry gets. On international benchmarks, we are one of the most miserly contributors.”

Dargavel is careful to point out that he doesn’t believe the car industry is doomed in Australia, but it’s telling that he’s already looking to other sectors for his members’ future.

“Australia will be spending $100bn over the next 10 years on defence procurement, most of it going offshore,” he said. “That could create significant opportunities here. If we build ships here, there’s 20 years of work for these guys. The government may get it cheaper offshore, but the negatives outweigh the positives for the communities here.”

Even if other opportunities are found, there remains the lingering sense that any remedy is likely to be short lived. These blue collar workers wave their union flags as they bellow insults at Abbott, but it’s hard to escape the fact this could be one fight too many.

“It’s been gut wrenching but I see no other outcome but the auto industry shutting down in Australia, which will have a big impact on the manufacturing industry,” says Darren Kirwan, who has spent 13 years at Holden as an electrician, from his apprenticeship until now.

“There’s a bit of a sombre mood at the moment. It’ll be worse for the older guys as they’ll have a problem getting back into the workforce. But even for the younger blokes, manufacturing will be non-existent in this country for them. There will be a lot of young people thinking ‘What’s the point of getting a trade?’ ”

Would you become an electrician now, if you were leaving school?

“I’d be having second thoughts about it, certainly,” he says. “If people don’t build things, there’s not much call for electricians. What’s the point?”